The Inevitability of Leaving

As I sit here, in the presence of only myself, my thoughts, and my memories, my mind drifts back. Back to only a month ago, when I was in a foreign country and unsure of myself. A month ago, I was preparing for the inevitable- our leaving El Salvador. We made Villa Serena our home, our jumping off point. Villa Serena’s façade both welcomed us in to the country and ushered us out. I was unsure because I did not know what to expect. Just as when I entered the country, I was trying to imagine what was next. And I was prepared neither for entering nor for leaving. Our first days in El Salvador were filled with novelty and hope, and no expectations. We did not know what Altos would be like, or how the youth would receive us. And what we found, was that they had open minds, and open hearts. But upon our return to the United States, I found the opposite. My friends and my family did not receive me with open minds or open hearts.

People asked me what it was like, in El Salvador. But how does one explain something so unique, something so intense and impacting...how can you quantify that? How can you explain to people who will never understand? I have found that people latch onto one thing when you tell them what you have lived. My father asked about the weather and the food. My mother complimented my photos, but she barely glanced over them. And yet a complete stranger cried when I told her stories of the beautiful, hopeful youth that we met…but we did not just meet them, we embraced and came to know the youth. Our lives were intertwined, if only for a month. And while our lives only briefly overlapped, the crossing of our paths will change us both forever, both the youth and our humble nine.

I think the moment where it set in that we were leaving was when I exchanged friendship bracelets with two of the youth, Eduar and Johanna. It was a sort of capstone to the month. We had spent four weeks forging relationships that will last a lifetime- perhaps not concretely in letters or emails but through memories, feelings, and the changed perspective I have gained. And what? We were expected to just go, and then leave? We all left a part of us behind, both tangibly and intangibly. And it is in the intangible that it truly matters. The things we left behind- pictures, food, small gifts- they will all degrade and pass out of existence. But the emotions that we shared, and the memories that we will always be a part of…those are what we have left behind. It is in the intangible that we have left our legacy.

I think the moment where it set in that it was over was when I walked into work for the first time since landing on U.S. soil. And I was immediately bombarded by the world of retail, just in time for Christmas. The things people care about seem so trivial, so mundane…so worthless. Why does it matter how many gifts are under the tree? Isn’t the spirit of the holiday season to celebrate with those you love? How can an occasion for celebration cause so much stress that people almost find it pointless? Spending a month of your life dedicated to service and learning in another country, it opens your eyes, in a harsh and unforgiving way. You learn what is important and what is not. It devalues the things that you had previously, and falsely, valued. I think that is where the disconnect occurs. My thoughts over the holiday were on family and friends, and not on the routine of trying to find the “perfect gift.”

After the disconnect comes the disillusionment. We realize that our previous construction of the world around us was false. We have now seen the reality. Pictures do not do it justice. Pictures do not show you the little girl who must wear the same dress every day for a week because she has only the one. Pictures do not show you the struggle to access electricity or clean water. Pictures do not convey the happiness in the face of adversity. We saw it firsthand- the smiles and laughter among the youth who were struggling to both support their family and pursue an education. We saw the thankfulness for even the smallest gift. These things that we saw cannot and will not be quantified. They remain in the intangible, in the changed perspective we all have. They remain and are expressed in the impact they have on our lives- possibly shaping our career paths and at the very least, the way we view the world.

Leaving was inevitable. We always knew we would have to leave. The first day we were there was one day less that we had left. And so it was confusing to leave, knowing both what we were leaving behind, but also what we were going home to. It should have been a relief to return to normalcy, but how can one return to things that have remained the same when the person has been so deeply changed? We arrived in El Salvador as our past selves, and we left entirely new and dynamic. But the world around us remained static and unchanged.

When we left El Salvador, our journey did not end. It had barely begun. Where do we go from here? Our journey continues in our struggle to define what we saw and experienced, not for others but ourselves. How will we allow our experience to shape our choices and our actions? How will we integrate our memories into our daily lives? In my classes, in my daily life, I am reminded of El Salvador. Of the youth. Of their smiles and their laughter. I cannot help but to make comparisons between examples in class and what I have physically seen and touched. It will take time to sift through our memories, our photos, our journal entries. I hope my journey never ends.